Two Hundred Years
by remember-nomore
Summary: Even after two hundred years Tara still misses and remembers everything about her lost lover. Tara & Lindsey pairing


Two-hundred years.

Two-hundred years and she can still remember it like it was yesterday; even after the soul was ripped from her body, taking away the last bit of humanity that she had inside her. She remembers his touch, the way he smelled, the feel of his voice against her skin as he whispered just below her ear.

_"I want you so much darlin'." _

The memories flood her mind, images and memories of the night they met, in the back of a demon bar in LA. He was looking for company and she was looking for someone to make a guiltless meal out of.

"_I need you … god I want you, please."_

Things turned out to be different than that, much more. It was all too much, too soon. More intense than either of them had planned on. But in the end it was right. It felt so right. He became her comfort, her safe place. He was the one person who accepted her for who and what she was – an anomaly of sorts – something that shouldn't exist for all logic and reason.

A vampire like her shouldn't have such compassion and heart. He used to stroke her hair when he thought she was sleeping and whisper the sweetest words she ever thought she'd hear.

"_My wicked angel. Don't know how I got you darlin', but I ain't lettin' you go. Fight me all you want. Gonna fight for you with everything inside me."_

The conviction in his voice would have made her heart stop if it still beat. The way he accepted her like nobody else was a gift that she took pains to cherish.

He accepted her faults and needs, held her when the soul that poisoned her from the inside started to eat away at her. There were nights when he would be forced to chain her down as the demon inside fought for control, her pleas for him to stake her eating him up and making him feel more helpless then he'd ever felt working for Wolfram and Hart.

No matter what, he was there, stood by her and was her strength. But he was much more than that. From the first night they spent together in that rotten hotel room, he was so much more than the meal she expected him to be.

Some nights she'd stand on a roof top and close her eyes, her arms crossed over herself as she hugged his now ratted shirt that she wore to her body; for memories, never for warmth.

She remembered the way his hands felt as they moved over her cool skin, the way he pushed her against the wall, holding her trapped and hostage to his kisses; prisoner to his touch.

_Slamming the door behind them, he growled low in his throat, his eyes filled with fire as he pressed her body hard against the wall facing away from him. His body pressed into her hard, trapping her between the wall and the pressing of his cock against her back._

_His lips moved over her skin, his hand pushing her hair to the side to bare her neck to his hot lips. She shivered with every touch of his skin, every kiss. The way he fumbled frantically to pull her lace up shirt up and off of her, the need clear in his eyes as he spun her around. He needed to feel her skin against his; it was almost maddening how much he wanted it. It scared her how much she needed the man she just met… _

Her body burned for him then. It burns for his memory now.

Soulless or not, she still missed him. She still had so much regret and hated herself for not having the courage to turn him before she lost him. Lost him to the man she had first came to LA to beg for help.

The man Lindsey could never escape from. Lindsey had known he would always be his destruction, but he'd gone to him in spite of everything.

He went to Angel – inspite of everything - just to help her.

Maybe that's why she keeps a vial of her great-grand-sire's ashes around her neck, a way to keep the killer of her lover close to her long-dead heart. She fought for him, staked the man that took her tattooed boy from her. But it was too late, always too late to save him. No amount of magics could have brought him back; she knows. She tried.

The vial was a reminder for her, to keep her from forgetting that there are things in this world worth fighting for.

Still, she forgot sometimes as she walked the streets alone in the darkness, trying to find that spark again, trying to find someone to complete that void. She knew that the emptiness could only be filled with a southern drawl and a rattlesnake smile.

Her hunt was endless; nothing would ever fill that place inside her again.

Not even after two-hundred years.


End file.
